


love the way you dominate when you violate me

by outoftheashes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Sam, Community: spn-masquerade, Demon Dean Winchester, Episode AU: s10e03 Soul Survivor, First Time, First Time for Everything Fest, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Prompt Fill, Season/Series 10, Sex Slave Sam Winchester, Sexual Slavery, Slave Sam Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, Verbal Humiliation, Violated but enjoying it by the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16159097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/pseuds/outoftheashes
Summary: Written for the spn-masquerade prompt:Dean wins in Soul Survivor and rather than killing Sam, decides to humiliate him by raping him. To his shock and horror, Sam starts to enjoy the feel of it, especially after Dean comes inside him.





	love the way you dominate when you violate me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zombieutopia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombieutopia/gifts), [multishippinglover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/multishippinglover/gifts), [AzrielRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzrielRose/gifts).



> Double whammy! Not only is this a prompt fill for the spn-masquerade, but it fills my Isolation square for Bad Things Happen Bingo.

“Do it. It's all you,” Dean says with a big, predatory smile. Like Sam doesn't have a knife held against Dean's throat. Maybe he knows it’s for show. Maybe he knows Sam _can't_ . This thing might not be _Dean_ but it's got Dean’s memories. The demon knows Sam's weaknesses.

His weakness has always been Dean. Always. Even when he tries to run and hide from it.

Sam drops the knife and Dean’s eyes turn  black.

“Just kill me.”

Dean laughs and Sam cringes. It stings more than he cares to admit that Dean - _no_ , _not_ Dean - is so light-hearted and happy at the prospect of killing Sam.

“No. I don't think so. I wanna play first.”

Sam wets his lips. “I thought you were tired of the game?”

Dean shakes his head, still flashing his wicked teeth. “Different kind of game. Take off your clothes.”

“Wait -"

Dean’s nostrils flare and he crowds into Sam's space, smile gone. “Don't tell me what to do. Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

Sam takes a deep, cleansing breath and kicks off his shoes before wiggling out of his pants and boxers. He doesn’t bother with his shirt. Dean only has use for his holes, after all.

“Now what? Huh? You gonna rape me? That's a _game_ ?” The words tumble out before he can stop them. His fucking _mouth_. Seems to be a Winchester trait, having a mouth that doesn't follow the path of least resistance.

“Floor,” Dean says simply and licks his lips. “Call it whatever you want. It's happening.”

“You can't actually want this -"

Dean lifts the hammer, eyes ablaze with hate or maybe lust. Whatever it is, Sam doesn't want it. “I _said_ get on the fucking floor. Or I’ll bash your skull in.”

“Okay, settle down Jack Torrance,” Sam snarks as he falls to his knees right in the damn hallway. He survived Hell. He survived Gadreel and Toni. He can survive this too. It won't break him. It _can't_ break him. This won't last forever and Dean, the real Dean, will be returned to him. Cas will help. Sam's gotta believe that.

Dean pulls out his cock and ice floods Sam's veins. He _knew_ this is where it was headed but _seeing_ Dean’s hard, interested cock is difficult to wrap his head around. He can't fucking _fathom_ that _this_ is what Dean - _not_ Dean - wants.

“Get to it. Make yourself useful, bitch.”

Sam winces and leans forward, stomach clenching in disgust. “Don’t. Don't call me that.”

“What?” Dean asks, slapping his cock against Sam's cheek. It grazes the edge of Sam's mouth, waiting for Sam to take it in. “You _are_ my little bitch, Sammy. Stupid fucking bitch. You had the chance to kill me and you didn't. Now look where it got you. Kneeling for me with tears in your eyes. Pathetic.”

Sam sighs through his nose, trying not to react with words. So, instead of speaking, he tongues at the head of Dean’s cock.

“Suck me down, you little pussy,” Dean hisses, tapping Sam's cheek with the hammer.

_Fuck._

Sam falters, mouth unresponsive a moment before he obeys and swallows Dean as much as he can, trying not to gag at the intrusion. The violation. His tongue flutters nervously along the hot, thick length as he breathes through his nose, sucking on his own brother.

 _No_ . _Never Dean. Dean wouldn't do this._

“There we go,” Dean growls low, dropping the hammer on the ground. He digs his hands in Sam's hair, rough and possessive. “You been practicing? Don't know if I should be pissed or grateful.”

Sam keeps sucking and bobbing his head, ignoring Dean’s stupid, immature barbs. At least he tries to.

“Who'd you do this for? Lucifer?”

_Get him off as fast as possible. If you do, maybe he'll leave you alone._

“Mmm. Yeah, course it was. But not just him, huh? You don't have the best track record when it comes to sex.”

_Rape. It's fucking rape - not sex._

Dean rolls his hips and chuckles. His dick is _deep_ in Sam's mouth and Sam fights the urge to scrape it with his teeth. “Hit a nerve that time, didn't I? Knew I could do it. You're too easy.”

The hardest part is the grain of truth in Dean’s words. Sam _is_ too easy. Dean's dick is becoming less of a hassle in his mouth. Dean doesn't need to force Sam's head in place - Sam's tasting Dean all on his own.

“Yeah, take it. Easy little bitch. Take it all like a good boy,” Dean taunts, fucking into Sam fast and brutal.

Sam frowns when Dean pulls out  unexpectedly. “What are you doing?”

“Ass in the air,” Dean says with that dangerous edge in his voice that makes Sam shiver and shake. “Got a present for ya.”

“Oh, _yeah,_ I _bet_ ,” Sam grits out, all annoyed sarcasm as he does what he's told. He lays his face on the floor and arches his ass high. “Go for it, you fucking rapist.”

“Oh no. I'm not a rapist,” Dean grunts, nudging the head of his cock against Sam's ass. Surprisingly, he doesn't stick it in. “You like it, at least a little. Think you've been hoping I'd use you. Else you'd be fighting.”

“You aren't giving me a _choice_ , Dean,” Sam snaps, rage filling him - until hot come lands on his hole.

Dean’s come.

Sam gasps because, yeah, he kinda enjoys the feel of _that_.

“There you go,” Dean purrs, nudging his thick cock inside Sam's ass, inch by inch. Slow and easy.

The come is perfect lube. And, to Sam's surprise and growing concern, Dean's hard again. Sam's ass doesn't hurt; it feels _used_ but it’s not painful. In fact, Sam's pretty sure he'll come untouched. He rolls into Dean's thrusts, hesitant and jerky but soon they have a pleasant rhythm going, and the fire inside Sam builds.

This time when Dean comes Sam comes too.

 

* * *

 

 

The bunker is warded so not even Cas can get in - Dean tells him this with sadistic excitement - and people who dare venture too close are destroyed on sight. Sam's nerves are torn and frayed from worry. His worst nightmare come true would be causing a loved one's death. So, as much as the isolation eats at him, he hopes friends stay away.

Eventually, Dean grows tired of Sam fighting to escape and is bound and chained to Dean's bed. Spread eagle. Dean can see every part of him whenever he arrives because Sam isn't allowed clothes. He's a talking sex doll as far as Dean's concerned. A sex slave. Meant only for Dean’s pleasure.

“Why you looking at me like that?” Dean asks, pulling the dildo shaped like Dean's cock out of Sam.

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” Sam grumbles, turning his face away as Dean pulls off his clothes and climbs on the bed. He settles between Sam's shaking thighs and Sam averts his gaze. He doesn't want to look Dean in the face. Doesn't want Dean to _know_.

“Fucking liar,” Dean sighs as he slides inside Sam without resistance. His hole has been open and waiting for Dean for hours. “Need your daily dose of come. Else you turn into a cranky bitch.”

It's true.

Every time Sam gets Dean's cock, he settles down. He's _so_ much happier and fulfilled when Dean's inside of him. And it’s even better, fucking _orgasm_ inducing, when he gets Dean’s come. Dean doesn't ever have to touch Sam to get him off if he doesn't want to. He just needs to fill his ass to the brim with demon come.

“Whatever,” Sam moans, struggling in the restraints. If he were free, he can't say he'd be fighting. He _wishes_ he could say that but he’s so damn weak. He just wants to wrap his legs around Dean’s waist. He wants to leave scratches along his back.

His hope that the real Dean will be returned to him fades day by day. His hope of being more than a slave are slim to none. His hope of having anything resembling _normal_ is dead.

At this point, not worth it anyway. He's beyond saving.

 

* * *

 

 

The weeks and months bleed together. Weeks and months of only having Dean for company. If it's _not_ Dean, he gets various toys to occupy his holes. He's learned not to misbehave, because if he does, he gets the fucking machine.

So he behaves well enough to avoid it. Usually. Not today. Today, _that_ is what he gets.

Sam finds himself craving Dean, even while getting pumped into endlessly. He craves Dean’s attention and praise. His voice. His touch. His cock. His come. Especially his cock and come. He knows it's not normal. He knows he's probably being drugged to make him this needy and unfulfilled - but he's too desperate to care.

He can't deny it anymore. He's addicted to Dean.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean's either sneaking demon blood in Sam's food or demon come is giving Sam powers. If the healing abilities didn’t confirm it, the fact Sam can _will_ books over to him to read does. He's got telekinesis.

_What else can I do?_

That answer makes itself known when he's going through withdrawals. He hasn't had Dean’s dick and he _hurts_.

_Please, Dean. Come back. I need it. You. I need your come. Please, please, please._

It's a mantra in his head, repeated over and over and over again.

When Dean finally shows up, Sam lets out a relieved almost-sob. “You’re back.”

“Course I’m back! I just got a bit, uh, excited. Lost track of time,” Dean says, tearing off his clothes and gives Sam a slow once over. “But then I heard you screaming in my head and figured it was time to see you.”

“Wait. You heard me?” Sam pants, trying to hold back. Trying not to _beg_. “I've got telepathy now too?”

“Looks like,” Dean says, flicking his tongue out between his teeth. “Probably just with me.”

Sam shoots Dean a glare. “What are you waiting for? I feel like shit!”

“I wanna hear you say it.”

Sam swallows thickly. “What?”

“I wanna hear you say what you did in my head before I give it to you.”

Sam squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds, riding out the pain. “I need you _now_.”

“There you go,” Dean breathes out, releasing Sam from his restraints. Next, he tugs on the butt plug so it comes out of Sam's ass. Then Dean makes himself comfortable on the bed against the headboard. “Get on my cock. But you _don't_ get to ride it. Just keep it warm.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sam mutters, lowering himself onto Dean’s perfect cock with a satisfied sigh. The pain already feels more manageable.

“Better?” Dean asks against the nape of Sam's neck.

“It is,” Sam says with a shiver. “It really is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> Please don't send me prompts on ao3.


End file.
